


full of it

by bukowsking



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Banter, Costumes, Dirty Talk, Drinking, Halloween, Harry is the devil, Hate Sex, Housewarming Party, Louis hates Harry, M/M, Mouthy Louis, Rimming, Rough Sex, Short Hair Harry, Top!Harry, Unsafe Sex, bottom!Louis, enemies to fuckbuddies, harry is a pompous asshole, liam is niall's roommate, louis is an angel, niall is a drunken lovable idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-08 00:41:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16419176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bukowsking/pseuds/bukowsking
Summary: Speaking of the Devil, he gives his own sarcastic little laugh, and retorts venomously. “You are way too fucking uptight, Tomlinson. You desperately need to get laid.”“That’s what I was trying to do until you cocked it all up for me!”“Well, maybe I should do the honors myself!”“Maybe you should!”orNiall and Liam decide to throw a Halloween housewarming party. Harry and Louis experience some misadventure.





	full of it

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know where all of this muse is coming from. this wasn't originally a halloween story but alas, i figured i'd be festive. i apologize for any typos. i own nothing but the storyline.
> 
> enjoy xx

Louis is two beers in when he notices him. He thinks he’s been subtly staring for the past ten or so minutes, but alas, Harry Styles clearly isn’t as subtle as he thought he was, especially when dressed in those tiny red shorts and see through shirt, Devil horns fastened atop his curls. Louis had never interacted with Harry directly, but seeing as they both had Niall as a mutual friend, it wasn’t a surprise that they had both been invited to Niall and Liam’s Halloween housewarming party. Harry had a bit of a reputation, you see, as a playboy. He’d lead a girl - or boy - on for weeks, showing them off and then before you know it, he’s on to the next. Louis wanted nothing to do with the bastard.

 

That being said, it’s a bit unnerving that aforementioned bastard has been eyeing him up from a distance ever since Louis started chatting this guy up, Zach?  _ Zayn, _ his subconscious reminds him.  _ It’s Zayn _ . 

 

Conversation has been flowing easily between the two, and Louis makes a note of how often Zayn has been brushing against him, fingers darting out every now and then to rest against his arm, his Spiderman costume very form-fitting -- much to Louis’ pleasure. He’d listened to Lottie babble on far too much about how to flirt with men to not recognize this as a signal that Zayn was interested, and it had been far too long since Louis had a good lay for him to not respond to Zayn’s interest. This was his goal for the night.

 

If it weren’t for Harry fucking Styles and his creepy glare, Louis would’ve already been on his knees for Zayn. But alas, here he is, growing more annoyed with each passing second. Although, Louis  _ was  _ wearing the shortest white skirt known to man-- Thanks, cheap Party City angel costume, -- which did a fantastic job of showing off his  _ ass _ -ets, if you catch his drift. So, he couldn’t really blame Harry for staring. 

 

“....and I guess I really should’ve been on time but the professor was an ass, you know?” Zayn’s voice fades back into the forefront of Louis’ mind, casting a smile towards the fit bloke. He hadn’t really been paying attention, and chalked it up to the fact that watching Zayn’s lips move was more captivating than the actual words leaving his mouth. 

 

Just as he was about to reply, none other than Niall himself clapped a hand on Louis’ shoulder, greeting the pair with a loud, slurred  _ hiya, boys! _ To which he and Zayn both nodded and smiled tersely. Although Niall’s cheeseburger costume was a bit lame, it fit the boy’s personality very well; brash, hungry, and always some level of tipsy. Louis blamed Niall’s Irish heritage for that one.

 

“Lou-ehh, have you had enough to drink, lad? S’more drinks in the basement, y’know, why don’t’ya go on and get s’me, yeah? Harreh! Harreh, my boy! Accompany the lovely Lou-eh on his mission!” The booming sound of Niall’s drunken voice carried over the music, turning the heads of multiple party goers. And that’s when the self-righteous asshole himself makes his way over to the pair.

 

Louis is going to murder Niall.

 

“Follow me.” The smug bastard says, as if Louis didn’t know his way around his own best friend’s house. If it was possible to roll your eyes all the way to the back of your head, this is when Louis would. Regardless, he huffs and purposely begins to walk ahead of Harry, grasping onto the handle of the basement door and giving the taller man a sarcastic smile, leads the way down the stairs. 

 

Once Louis has turned the light on at the end of the descent, it seems that Harry takes this as his cue to begin being as annoying as humanly possible. His voice is mundane and slow, making the already dull story he was telling even more insufferable. What did Louis care that Harry went skiing in the Alps this past winter? He didn’t. It was so obviously an attempt to impress the smaller man, and it very obviously was not working. Louis came down here to retrieve more drinks for NIall, and once that task was complete, he’d be free to go back to flirting with Zander --  _ Zayn  _ \-- and would never have to interact with Harry fucking Styles ever again.

 

“Are you sure you can carry all of that? I bench press, like, 400 pounds easy, so it wouldn’t be a problem for me.” The words slip from Harry’s mouth like molasses, and Louis’ irritation had spiked to all new levels. While of course he could see and admit that Harry was proper fit, there was no need for him to acknowledge that fact himself. Louis had eyes, for God’s sake. And to undermine Louis’ own physical prowess? Well, he could take his pride and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine.

 

“Oh, thank god you’re here to help me, mister big man! Whatever would I do without you!” Louis cried out overdramatically, even laying his hand across his forehead for good measure. Harry’s response was to roll his eyes and to give Louis his own little dry chuckle.

 

“Very funny, Tomlinson. You should consider a career in acting. You’ve got a nice little body, I’m sure some porn studio somewhere would love to have you.” 

 

Louis’ jaw dropped a bit, scoffing at the audacity of this insufferable nuisance. How is it that Harry can compliment and yet insult him in the same sentence? He was trying to mess with Louis’ head, that was damn sure, and in Louis’ intoxicated state, it was actually beginning to have an effect on him. Louis felt the need to slap him across his smug face, yet he couldn’t deny that their sexually charged banter was turning him on at the same time. He needed to get out of there, and fast, before Drunk Louis did something Sober Louis was going to regret come tomorrow morning.

 

“I’m getting out of here. Fuck off, Styles, if you know what’s good for you.” He spat out, determinedly making his way back up the stairs and out of the basement. 

 

Only he discovered that the door was locked from the outside when he reached the door.

 

_________________________________________________

 

Louis seethed, turning on his heel and rushing back down the stairs to confront the arsehole face to face. It was clear to him that Harry must’ve locked the door before following Louis into the basement, the little shit. But what was his plan exactly? To annoy Louis to death? Because if so, it was working, and very well at that.

 

“Alright, very funny, Styles, but call Niall to unlock the fucking door  _ now _ , before I bludgeon you with this six pack of beer.” Louis huffed out, balancing said beer on his knee as he awaited Harry’s answer.

 

“What are you going on about, Tomlinson? The door is locked? I didn’t lock any fucking door, and I didn’t even bring my phone to the party in the first place.”

 

Louis was going to murder Niall  _ and  _ Harry.

 

“Oh, fuck off! You expect me to believe the door locked itself? Come off it, I’ll call Niall before I have to be stuck with you for another fucking second.” Louis angrily place the case of beer on the floor and reached into his pocket to grab his cell, only to be met with empty air. His chest constricted slightly in a feeling of panic, patting down every pocket he had on his person, yet still turning up with nothing. His panic then melted away into anger, thin eyebrows furrowed in a scowl as he turned to the only other person in the room. “What the fuck did you do with my phone, you twat?!”

 

“ _ Me?!”  _ Harry’s typically deep voice had raised about half an octave, an obscenely large hand coming to rest on the center of his exposed chest, his top barely being buttoned. “What in the hell would I want with your phone, tiny? Your drunk arse probably dropped it somewhere!” 

 

Louis’ humorless laugh bounced off the walls as he shook his head, in blatant disbelief that this was really his life, that instead of having a good time with Niall and his other friends, he’s stuck with the bane of his existence in a basement in the middle of London. It’s  _ just his fucking luck _ . He decides to voice as much.

 

“You know, my evening was going just fine until you decided to ruin it! If I would’ve came down here alone, I probably wouldn’t be stranded down here with a complete imbecile!” Louis is aware that his voice is now at least an octave higher than usual, but it’s not like anyone would be able to hear them over Matty Healy’s voice booming over the living room soundsystem. He can discern the lyrics to  _ Somebody Else _ , a song he’s loved for years. And he’s missing it, because of Harry  _ fucking  _ Styles.

 

Speaking of the Devil, he gives his own sarcastic little laugh, and retorts venomously. “You are way too fucking uptight, Tomlinson. You desperately need to get laid.”

 

“That’s what I was trying to  _ do  _ until you cocked it all up for me!”

 

“Well, maybe I should do the honors myself!”

 

“Maybe you should!”

 

There’s a beat; a heavy pause filling the room as Louis’ chest rises up and down quickly, anger flushing through his veins as he takes in what he’s just insinuated. Harry’s own eyes have gone a bit comically wide as it seems he’s absorbing Louis’ words as well. Just as Louis has opened up his mouth to retract his statement, the big oaf steps forward and brings their mouths together a bit sloppily, his hand cupping Louis’ jaw and covering practically his entire cheek.

 

A noise of surprise leaves Louis’ lips, freezing for a brief moment before coming to his senses and pushing Harry back with his hands on his broad chest. He may be drunk, but Louis isn’t stupid. There’s no way this could actually ever happen. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Harry?! Get away from me!”

 

“I.. I thought.. I’m sorry. This was dumb. I’m -- I’ll be over there.” Harry motions to the couch placed up against the opposite wall, stumbling over and taking a seat on it. His face seems to be a bit flushed in embarrassment, purposely avoiding Louis’ gaze as he makes quick work of playing with the threads on his shirt. Well, actually, blouse would be a better description, since it appeared to be made from silk and flowed off of Harry’s body quite nicely. 

 

Perhaps Louis had too much to drink this evening; that’s the only way he can explain his reasoning behind what he’s just said to Harry. Sure, anyone with eyes could make the conclusion that Harry was very physically attractive, but this man is Louis’ mortal enemy since they were in high school. Louis couldn’t possibly hook up with him… right? His eyes fall to the thickness of Harry’s thighs, openly ogling the sight presented to him. He supposes it couldn’t hurt to give into temptation, just this once. It wasn’t as if the world would end because of one measly little makeout session. Fuck it.

 

“Fuck it.” Louis sighs aloud, throwing all caution to the wind as he straddles Harry’s open legs and brings their mouths back together, less sloppily and more purposeful this time. It was Harry’s turn to be surprised this time, eyebrows raising, although he seemed to get the hint as those large hands of his came to grip the curve of Louis’ waist. In a matter of minutes, their kiss had turned dirty and their hips desperately ground against each other, tongues easily slipping into each other’s mouths. For all that Louis hated Harry, he was certainly quite the kisser.

 

They pull back from the kiss, Harry immediately attaching his mouth to Louis’ neck as the smaller man eagerly begins to peel himself out of his clothes. “Wait, wait a minute, Harry. Do you have anything on you?” He questions, attempting to pull Harry off of his skin so that they could talk. Harry fish-mouths for a few seconds, green eyes blown wide and glassy with lust as he shakes his head.

 

“I.. no, I don’t. I wasn’t expecting anything to happen and I don’t even have any pockets on this costume. Fuck. Fuck, I’m sorry.” Harry sighs defeatedly, head bumping against Louis’ shoulder and groaning, clearly disappointed. Louis bites down on his bottom lip, mulling over the thoughts racing through his muddled mind. He lifts a hand to run through his feathery brown hair, once again pushing Harry back so that they could make eye contact.

 

“I’m clean. Got tested two months ago. If you’re clean, too, then.. then we can still do this.”

 

Harry begins nodding quickly, affirming to Louis verbally that he was clean as well, having just gotten tested last week. This may be the stupidest decision Louis has ever made, but there was a chance that he’d get the fuck of his life out of it, and he was a young, horny man. His cock was currently overriding his sense of right and wrong.

 

It’s not much longer after that that Louis is stripped down to his thin pair of white briefs, not failing to make note of Harry’s shit-eating grin. “How angelic of you, baby.” He says smugly, and it takes all the willpower Louis has to not smack him silly right then and there. He shuts Louis up by pushing his hips forward yet again, his hardness making itself known against Harry’s still red-clad thighs. Speaking of which, Louis found it to be very fucking unfair that he was basically already naked while Harry was “fully” dressed. Louis fingers deftly fell to the waistband of said red shorts, snorting when he peels them down and is met with the sight of Harry’s bare, hard, and leaking erection.

 

He glances up at Harry with a knowing look, and the taller man answers with a smirk and a shrug. “Shorts were too constricting. No room for underwear. Like it better that way anyway.” He winks, and Louis doesn’t hesitate to roll his eyes this time. 

 

Harry’s length was both gifted in girth and length, and Louis knew he wouldn’t be able to handle this without some sort of foreplay. He voices this much to Harry, who responds by manhandling Louis onto his hands and knees on the plush cushions of the couch. He fully intends on making some biting comment to Harry, but instead a loud moan falls from his mouth as Harry swiftly removes his underwear and licks over his exposed hole in one go. Louis’ head drops forward and his hips push back, chasing the feeling of pleasure tingling down his spine and settling in his stomach. His own cock is hard as well, standing at attention between his thighs. It’s then that he realizes Harry is quite literally  _ kissing his ass _ , and the notion causes him to giggle.

 

“What’s so funny, princess?” Harry questions, before his tongue hurriedly dives back into the warm velvet of Louis’ hole. Louis shakes his head, dismissing the question as he focuses on chasing the warm feeling of Harry eating him out. This continues for several moments, and at some point, Louis hazily notices that Harry has inserted two fingers alongside his tongue, stretching Louis deliciously. The blue eyed man’s noises had only increased in volume, silently thanking god that the music was blaringly loud enough to drown him out. 

 

Once Harry deemed Louis stretched open enough for his cock, he kneeled behind him and spat into his palm, generously lubing himself up before grasping his base in hand and lining up at Louis’ fluttering entrance. His free hand found its way into Louis’ sandy hair, grabbing on tight. “Mother _ fucker _ , that hurts! Let go!” The shorter man complained, all but hissing at Harry. HIs grip loosened considerably, huffing as he finally pushed his cock inside.

 

Harry’s jaw dropped open at how tight Louis felt, and warm to boot. It’d been far too long since he’d fucked, although he would never admit this out loud. Louis would never let him live that down. His hips stilled once he’d bottomed out, balls pressed flush against the back of Louis’ smooth, shaven thighs. The lengthy expanse of Harry’s torso caged Louis in beneath him, and Harry took this opportunity to mouth at Louis’ neck and whisper hotly into his ear. “You feel so fucking good, Tomlinson. If I’d known, I would’ve fucked you much sooner than this.”

 

Louis rolls his eyes for what feels like the millionth time that night, lips curling up in a snarl as the following words left him in what resembled a breathy growl.

 

“Shut up and fuck me, idiot.”

 

And who was Harry but a people pleaser? A smug grin came across his face, left dimple making itself prominent as he lifted himself off of Louis’ back and took hold of his waist, pulling all the way out before snapping his hips forward and burying himself deep inside again. Louis’ resounding moans and whimpers only served to spur Harry on even further, his movements gaining momentum and their skin slapping together noisily. It wasn’t long before Harry took notice of Louis’ left hand sneaking down to begin jerking himself off, and Harry would have none of that. If Louis was going to come, it was going to be because of Harry, and Harry only.

 

“I don’t fucking think so, princess.” Harry spoke sternly as he smacked the offending hand away and replaced it with his own, stroking Louis in time with each rough thrust. The blue eyed boy’s anger was still simmering somewhere deep down inside of him, but the arousal building up in his groin by far overpowered that, as he simply muttered to himself but gave in to Harry’s commands anyway.

 

Their orgasms were fastly approaching, and Louis’ own thrusts back onto Harry’s cock were becoming frantic. Sweat had begun to pool in his collarbones from the amount of effort in which he was moving, and if he chose to reach his hand back to graze over Harry’s solid chest, he would feel sweat there as well. The smell permeated the basement, beer long forgotten where Louis had placed it down earlier. Louis could hear Harry’s deep grunts as his member drilled into Louis’ prostate with alarming accuracy, the sounds just making Louis that much more turned on and eager to finally release. Suddenly, he remembers his situation and glances over his shoulder to speak to the boy pounding him relentlessly.

 

“Don’t you fucking dare come inside of me, Styles. I don’t want to clean your goddamn mess.”

 

It’s the blissed out flush on Louis’ face and his commanding words that cause Harry to shudder, eyebrows knit together as he emits an obscenely lusty moan, quickly pulling himself out of the smaller boy and allowing his load to splash across Louis’ tan back and bum. Louis himself follows not too long after, his own release spilling over the hand Harry had wrapped around his cock. 

 

Soft pants now fill the room as Harry drops back down onto the couch, laughing quietly as he takes a minute to really let what just happened sink in. He’s dreamed of getting to fuck Louis Tomlinson and his big arse ever since the eighth grade, and here he is, covered in the boy’s cum. This might be his favorite Halloween yet.

 

“Oi, what’s so fucking funny, Curly?” Louis spits out, using Harry’s discarded shirt to wipe down the semi-dried mess off of his skin. He doesn’t miss the look Harry gives him, and he responds with the middle finger. 

 

Louis and Harry are quick to get dressed again, with Louis double checking that he doesn’t look like he just got his arse destroyed by the man he hates. As soon as he’s done re-fastening his Angel wings on, he scoops up the case of beer that he abandoned earlier, and decides to try the basement door once more.

 

He curses when the door immediately swings open, and yells for Harry to follow him, vowing once again that he will kill someone tonight, even if that person is Fate itself.

 

___________________________________________

 

“There ya are! Nearly called t’police t’start a search party for you two, innit.” Niall’s slurring has only worsened, and Louis suppresses the urge to throttle the Irishman. He spots Zayn and Liam, in all his Deadpool costume glory, passionately swallowing each other’s tongues on the couch in the living room, mentally taking note that that conquest was over before it even started.

 

“He’s your fuckin’ beer, Nialler, and don’t ever ask me for another favor in the next few decades, alright?” He smiled blithely and yanked the solo cup full of liquor from Niall’s hand, chugging what was left of it as Harry stumbled up the stairs and shut the door behind him. Louis’ peripheral vision caught sight of him, and Louis cursed to himself. The twat forgot to zip up his stupid fucking shorts. 

 

It seems that no matter how drunk Niall gets, he’ll always be extremely observant. His gaze falls to where Harry’s shorts are still opened, a wide smile breaking across Niall’s face as he raised his arms and cheered.”Oh ho ho! Happy Halloween, boyos! I knew it was coming.”

 

Louis and Harry both use this moment to flip Niall off, resulting in the both of them blushing and Niall laughing even harder in response. Louis stomps off moodily, in search of more alcohol as his hand rubs over his face -- when he notices a piece of paper fall from his sleeve. He bends down to pick it up, and has to squint a bit to even understand the scribbled mess sprawled across it. Harry  _ fucking  _ Styles’ phone number. Louis smirks to himself.

 

Happy Halloween, indeed. 


End file.
